


sometimes darkness will show you the light

by braveatheart



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 01:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7131671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braveatheart/pseuds/braveatheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this post: http://queenclxrke.tumblr.com/post/139719389719/whatever-you-do-dont-think-about-lexa-and-candles</p><p>Costia tells Lexa the purpose of candles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sometimes darkness will show you the light

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I got permission from queenclxrke to turn her scenario into a full work, and I was asked to link to that post. Please follow the link in the description to view the original post. Anyway...I hope you enjoy this!

“How could you let this happen? How could you let them hurt my people? To YOUR people?”

Lexa sighs, shifting uncomfortably in her throne. Her heart races as she grips the sides of the makeshift wooden seat, seeking something to ground her. As she stares into the eyes of this helpless, devastated member of the Trikru, the young commander is beginning to feel a bit helpless herself.

The Maunon had once again attacked one of the clans she was meant to be leading and protecting. They pillaged their village, taking person after person against their will. Despite the fight that the Grounders had put up, they were no match to the weapons of the Maunon. Guns can not beat swords, nor bows. The men in the masks took another twelve people from the Tree People, Lexa’s own people, and took them back to the mountain. 

It is the third time that she has heard of her people being attacked in one week.

As the brunette holds her gaze with this man, a neighbor she recognizes from when she was still a child, she searches for words. She searches for an explanation as to why they hadn’t been protected. She searches for words of encouragement, or even simply words of comfort to give to her grieving brother. However, she comes up empty. Every phrase sounds like an excuse, an attempt to deflect the fact that she had failed. 

The man, Artemis, purses his lips. The desperation flooding his eyes gives way to a burning flame, and Lexa fights the urge to swallow. She tenses slightly, but does not back down. She braces herself for what is about to come. Her mentor and most esteemed warrior, Titus and Indra, both lunge forward in a warning to Artemis. Lexa’s hand flies upward immediately, and she needn’t speak for them to understand. They step backward obediently into the places they stood in before.

Artemis, clearly pleased with the lack of attack against him, stands taller now. He pulls his shoulders back and puts a darkness in his eyes that almost makes Lexa shudder. 

“You are no Heda, Lexa. You have failed your people.”

Titus leaps into action, forgetting to heed Lexa’s order.

“You mind your tone, Artemis,” he scowls, his words sharp and cold as ice. Lexa can’t see his face, but his jaw moves back and forth ever so slightly. He’s furious. Lexa swallows hard, and her heart begins to race impossibly faster. She sets her jaw and clenches her teeth, willing herself to stay stoic. Titus’ teachings play like a mantra through her mind.

_ Feeling is weakness. Never let them see you weak. _

“No Heda no mou!”

Those are the last words that Artemis speaks, but Lexa barely hears them. She doesn’t even flinch when Titus sends his blade through his neck. Her mind has shut down, and though her entire body shakes, she wills her voice to be strong.

“I am retiring to my quarters for the evening. Do not interrupt me.”

Titus turns around just as Lexa stands, and the brunette’s knees nearly buckle. She steadies herself, however, and if Titus notices he doesn’t mention it. His eyes flash with sympathy for a moment, and he opens his mouth to speak. When Lexa shoots him a cold glare, his lips purse into a tight line.

“Sha, Heda.”

Lexa moves on autopilot, pushing past Titus and Artemis’ bleeding corpse. The guards standing in front of the door to the throne room move out of the way without being asked, and for that, Lexa is grateful. She does not show it, however, and simply flings open the door and heads toward her room. It is on the floor below the throne room, meaning she has to take the elevator down. 

The guards in front of the elevator open their mouths to speak, presumably inquiring as to why Heda is roaming the tower with no guards at her side. It is unusual for her to go unprotected, even in her own home. When Lexa’s hand raises in a swift, definitive motion, their mouths close immediately. They simply step aside to let the brunette onto the elevator and send her upward.

The guards outside of Lexa’s room are more understanding and knowing of the commander’s moods and needs. As soon as they see the glossed over look in her eyes and the clench of her fists, they quickly bow to her before opening her chamber doors. Lexa hardly registers the sound of the doors closing behind her.

She storms over to her bed, tearing ferally at her clothes. She starts with her armor first, unbuckling the shoulder guard and red sash that has come to represent her position as Heda. Though it is sacred and pricelessly valuable, she tosses it aside like it is worthless. It clatters to the floor with a loud thud. Quickly, she’s working on the rest of her armor. Piece by piece, her layers come off, each discarded with as little care and concern as her shoulder guard until the brunette is left in nothing but her clothes.

She can’t breathe. The shirt is too tight around her arms, around her neck. She tears it off, nearly ripping it in the process, and hurls it across the room. It makes no sound as it falls. It’s not enough. The tight black pants that she wears, along with the boots that lace up to her knees, feel suffocating, like she can’t move. Lexa’s hands shake as she fumbles with the ties of her boots, then the buttons and belt on her pants. Both items are thrown off to the side carelessly.

She never hears the sound of her door opening and closing, or the hurried footfalls approaching the bed where she sits. Only when strong, dark arms wrap around her and pull her onto the bed does Lexa realize that she isn’t alone.

The brunette doesn’t need to look to see who has intruded. There’s a part of her that wants to shove the girl away, to scream at her that she was not to be disturbed. There’s a part of her that wants to scold her for thinking that the commander needs to be coddled like a child. That part of her is there, but the longer the girl holds her, the weaker that part becomes. Finally, after a minute or two of a silent war, Lexa’s weakness overcomes her and she sinks into the curly haired brunette’s arms. 

“Do you want to tell me what this is about?” Costia asks, pulling Lexa closer. A hand reaches up to settle itself in Lexa’s hair, and her thumb caresses the commander’s cheek. Lexa burrows closer to the girl, hiding her face in her warm neck and wrapping her arms around her middle. Costia pulls her love’s legs over her own and lets her grip remain.

“I can’t do it,” Lexa begins. She hates the way her voice is already beginning to shake. “There’s just so much bad. The Maunon, always… they take and take. The Ice Nation attacks innocents, and I can’t always stop it. I can hardly stop any of it. But that’s what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to keep my people safe. I’m supposed to protect everyone, to -”

“You can’t save everyone,” Costia whispers. A lump rises in Lexa’s throat, one she’s tried to learn to suppress, but she knows that it’s no use now.

“How do I live with myself if I don’t?”

Her own words break her. The lump in her throat transforms into a broken sob that comes out much too loudly for Lexa’s comfort. Once the dam is broken, the tide rushes in at once. The tears that have been burning in her eyes since Artemis brought the news break free, streaming down her cheeks in hot trails. Her body shakes with grief and hopelessness that seeps into every crack in her walls, threatening to tear them all down. She falls apart so quickly that she needs something to hold on to, so Lexa curls her fingers in Costia’s sweater until her knuckles are white.

“Let yourself feel, my love,” Costia whispers, then presses her lips to Lexa’s forehead. The hand not locked around Lexa’s neck rubs slow, comforting circles in the small of the commander’s back, and Lexa wishes she could breathe long enough to thank her. Every breath is met with a suffocating sob, however, and she knows that she has to let this happen. She stops fighting it, and the sounds that come from her mouth as she trembles are less than human. Or, perhaps, they are the most human she has been since she became Heda.

“Niron, you can’t be everywhere at once. You can’t be in the mountain, or at their doors. You can’t be at the Ice Nation borders. You can’t be in every clan. You simply can’t,” Costia says, her voice low and soothing. “You are doing everything that you can, Alexandria.”

“It’s not enough,” Lexa says, her words coming out more as a whine than a sentence. “That will never be enough.”

“It has to be,” Costia replies. She tightens her hold around Lexa and places another kiss to the brunette’s forehead.

Lexa doesn’t reply, because it can’t be enough. She has the people of eleven clans depending on her to keep them safe. She is the one who is supposed to have thought of every scenario three times through, with ten different solutions and preventions each time. She is the one who is supposed to have protection on every border, every village, all the time, despite needing to maintain an army to fight against the frequent attacks. She is the one who is supposed to be fixing everything, but she isn’t. And she can’t stand the truth of the fact that she simply can’t be.

“Do you know what candles are for?”

The question takes Lexa by surprise. The sobs racking her suddenly frail frame have weakened, and she is reduced to tears that simply don’t seem to stop flowing from her eyes. Her nose runs, her vision is blurred, and she thinks that she has never looked weaker before in her life. Still, for Costia, she pushes that aside and shakes her head.

“Hope,” Costia says simply. Her lips are still close to Lexa’s skin, sending warm, soothing vibrations through her body. Lexa allows her eyes to fall shut as she simply listens. “This world can be dark, and undeservedly cruel. You’ve seen that too much, my love, and I wish you hadn’t. But you understand.”

Lexa nods.

“In the darkest of times, people still search for light. They search for anything that can remind them of what is good when it seems like all is lost. That’s what candles are for.”

“Light?” Lexa asks. Her voice is quiet, raspy, but there.

“Yes. Light, and warmth. We light candles to illuminate a dark room so that we may see past the darkness and know what lies beyond. Their flame is warm, like a loving embrace. We might not be able to see yet what lies beyond the dark, but at least with the light of the candles, we can see enough to recognize what is still good even now.”

“Like what?”

The brunette’s words sound more cynical than she means them to be, but before she can apologize, Costia is shushing her.

“Light a candle in a dark room and you will be able to see the people around you that you love. You will be able to see the books that line your shelves, the charcoal and canvas in the corner that your wife loves to create with, the notebooks that your brother fills with poetry. All of what was shrouded by darkness will seem less out of reach.”

Lexa’s tears are nearly gone, now, and she’s left only with watery eyes and still-damp cheeks. Her nose is stuffed, and her throat aches with the effort it took for the grief to leave her body. Her eyelids droop with exhaustion, but she wills herself to stay alert. She shifts in Costia’s arms, pulling back so they can meet each other’s eyes.

“Hope is all that keeps us alive. Keep the flame burning. That is what you can do for your people.”

Lexa swallows hard and nods. Even after all these years of knowing Costia, and the two years they’ve spent as partners, those chocolate brown orbs filled to the brim with sincerity and love never fail to render the commander speechless. She does the only thing she can think of to express her gratitude and leans forward, capturing the girl’s lips with her own.

When they pull away, only for need of air, Costia’s words are ones that Lexa knows she will remember until the end of her days.

“Don’t you give up. Don’t let your flame die out.”

\--

Three months later, Lexa stares at the single candle alight on the nightstand next to her bed. She’s not sure she’s ready to climb beneath the covers. They’re too cold on one side.

“Gon yu, niron,” she whispers. A lone tear drips down her cheek, and for once, she lets it.

\--

“Wanheda is safe, but she won’t see you.”

Lexa sighs, leaning against her doorframe. Her body is weary, and her bloodshot eyes burn with the need for sleep. She is growing use to allowing Titus to see through the cracks just the slightest bit, and he is learning to allow her to be human sometimes. Though his tone still indicates disapproval with the presence of Wanheda, he still allows sympathy to seep into his own tired eyes as he looks down at the exhausted commander.

“It takes as long as it takes. Thank you, Titus. Reshop.”

“Reshop, Heda.”

Titus leaves with a respectful bow, and he closes the doors gently behind him. 

The weight of the familiar armor covering nearly every inch of Lexa’s body settles on her, now. With nearly shaking hands, she reaches up to gently unclip each piece. She sets it gingerly on the ground in a pile at the foot of her bed, followed by her clothing until she’s left in nothing but her bindings and her shorts. 

The sun is nearly set, and the darkness of the room begins to creep in. Lexa suppresses a shudder at the shadows on the walls. She moves swiftly to her nightstand where boxes of matches fill its single drawer. She strikes one match against the box, and the flame is alight. The sight alone brings a bit of calm to the tired brunette, and she leans the match down to the wick of the candle atop the nightstand. Her eyes linger on the flickering flame for just a moment, but soon, she is off.

By the time the sun is down and the stars are out with the moon, it is as if day is still there. The commander’s quarters are alight with flames dancing in every corner of the room. There is a warm glow that Lexa recognizes well. As she blows out the match and settles herself on the edge of the bed, Costia’s presence fills her to the core. The wild haired brunette was right; the flame is like a loving embrace. To this day, Lexa swears she feels familiar arms wrapping around her middle when the candles are finally all lit.

“See, Cos?” she whispers to the empty room. “I’m not giving up. Never.”

As Lexa crawls under the covers, finally learning to be okay with the coldness on one side, she thinks the exhaustion is beginning to make her delirious. Otherwise, she would swear that she heard a familiar voice calling to her.

“Where there is light, there will always be hope.”


End file.
